Your problems solved, with Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
I spend everyday slaving after my
ungrateful husband and children, and what thanks do I get? None,
whatsoever. So if mummy decides that she deserves a few cheeky
bottles of pinot on a Friday morning, I don’t see what the big deal
is. Just because my winding-down session happens to co-incide with
one of the kids’ birthday parties, and I happen to use a few swear
words, show my underwear and fall face-first into a rabbit jelly
doesn’t warrant my husband chastising me and turning the kids against
me, does it? It’s been two days now and they’re still being huffy.
Should I tell them all to go to hell?
Fiona,
Swansea

Dear Fiona,
At times like this, the only suitable
course of action is to fake your own abduction. I’ve considered doing
it myself, many times, to teach my cruel parents a lesson and make
them realise that life without me would be rubbish, and they never
should have shouted at me and sent me to bed with no supper just
because I accidentally coloured in my granny’s white dog with blue
and green felt tips and cut off all the hair on his shoulders. If you
do go down this route, make sure you set the scene well – take time
to leave evidence of a struggle, and, if possible, leave the window
of your bedroom window open with the curtains blowing dramatically in
the wind. Then simply hide under the bed a la Shannon Matthews, wait
for your absence to be discovered and witness with satisfaction when
the frantic shouting and wailing begins. Now they wish they’d been
nicer to you, and upon careful consideration, they realise that
Bilko’s new hairdo is actually pretty awesome.
Hope that helps,
Holly

 

 

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Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
You’re right, George. You know what was missing when the Queen married Prince Philip? A stoned Frankie Laine doing a cover of Leaning on a Lamppost.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
The next time you visit South America, why not leave the holiday resort to go and find ‘the real country’? Your parents are good for a spot ransom, I assume?

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
What better way to spend your 40th birthday this week than finally getting a GP appointment to have your colic seen to?

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
Your credit rating has plummeted to such depths that when you try and check it on a website, your office internet filter blocks it due to obscenity.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
Why not question the intelligence of athletes during a conversation in a bid to make yourself appear clever? Just hope the conversation doesn’t drift toward the topics of dedication, commitment or success.

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
Perhaps a lack of parental role models in your formative years ingrained a pattern of abandonment fears in your psyche which has manifested itself in adulthood as an inability to hold down a relationship for more than a few weeks. Or maybe you just really like cock.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
You’re given a textbook example of the concept of ‘vagueness’ this week when somebody says they’re going to watch Tron, ‘but the good one, not the rubbish one’.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
Your first clue that it was spam was when your 65-year-old grandmother apparently posted a link about self-filmed porn with the words ‘OMG’ & ‘LOLZ’ in the comments section. The second being that your grandmother died in 2004.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
Sexual role-playing can keep a relationship fresh, but it may be time for a rethnk when you find yourself resorting to ‘The Architect and the Planning Sub-Committee’.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
Come fly with me, lets’s fly, let’s fly away. Although if you’re wearing shoes that’s going to be £10 extra.

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
A transcendent experience on your next business trip as you absently open the Gideons Bible in your hotel room and there’s a slip of paper in it telling you the previous guest has managed to unscramble the porn channel.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
If you’re thinking of using the suffix ‘aholic’ to describe something you quite like – chocaholic for instance – just ask yourself whether you’d nosh off an unwashed lorry driver behind some bins for the price of a Crunchie. Oh you would? Fair enough.